


Seasick

by okemmelie



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Canon, Remnants of Despair (Dangan Ronpa), as much comfort as you'd expect from despair!soudam, like idk man it takes place right before canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29216679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okemmelie/pseuds/okemmelie
Summary: They spend their final moments before entering the simulation together and Kazuichi realizes he isn't ready to say goodbye. Maybe that's what despair is supposed to be.
Relationships: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Seasick

**Author's Note:**

> i finished the game less than a week ago and the brain rot is huge

Why did the Future Foundation’s headquarters have to be on a fucking island?

He knew despair, he  _ did.  _ He’d let himself be engulfed in it for  _ years  _ at this point, but it’d been despair he could inflict. Control. It’d been pain and it’d been blood and it’d been tears. But it hadn’t been  _ this.  _ He hadn’t been seasick.

Part of him felt bad. He was supposed to  _ like  _ despair. He was supposed to seek it out and embrace it, embrace how terrible it felt, yet here he was. Complaining. Wanting nothing more than to escape it. Part of him felt good. Maybe the fact that he was conflicted about it yet another layer of despair. Maybe this was a good thing. Part of him felt really bad. He was going to throw up.

There was a snicker from across the room. Tanaka’s face was partly covered by his stupid fucking scarf (which he should have gotten rid of a long time ago –  _ too sentimental _ – if you asked Kazuichi, but hardly anyone did), but he was sure he was smiling under it. And he was sure it wasn’t a friendly one.

It was funny, really, how easily words lost their meaning.  _ Boyfriends.  _ What a pathetic thing they’d called each other,  _ still  _ called each other despite everything. They’d loved each other, they had, but they’d been a terrible match and now Kazuichi could hardly say his name; but it was alright, ‘cause Tanaka couldn’t say his either.

Fuck. He hated this. At least land vehicles could pull over.

In a few hours, they’d arrive. They’d be put into a simulation that Izuru would corrupt and instead of getting better, they’d get worse. They’d bring her back.

Maybe if he was lucky, he’d die at Tanaka's hand in the simulations. Maybe if he was luckier, he wouldn’t die at all.

Wouldn’t that be funny? If he lived and Tanaka didn’t? He wouldn’t even get to experience the joy of becoming Junko and he could wallow in that self-pity too. Not that he needed more.

“Stop weeping,” Tanaka’s voice was quieter than usual, softer yet still laced with venom.

To be honest, Kazuichi hadn’t even noticed he was crying. Not that he ever did anymore. “Shut up.”

Maybe in an act of defiance, but more likely in an act of desperation, Kazuichi crawled across the floor towards Tanaka. There was no fucking way he was standing up, but he couldn’t sit still on his own anymore.

“What are you doing, you f–”

But before Tanaka could finish calling him a fool or a fiend or whatever it was this time, Kazuichi shoved himself into his lap and buried his face in the scarf that’d long lost its sense and smell of familiarity.

He could feel the breeder’s body stiffen under him, so frozen in place that he forgot to breathe (at least Kazuichi couldn’t hear nor feel his breath, so he figured it was a pretty safe assumption). Tanaka didn’t like physical contact. They’d gotten around to him feeling comfortable in it, even liking it and taking comfort in it, but all that was gone. What had taken them so long to build up had crumbled between their hands so easily.

Was it so wrong of him to seek comfort? This wasn’t despair. This was a desperate attempt to escape it if but for a moment. How pathetic.

Maybe it caused Tanaka despair, being forced into physical contact like this. Maybe he’d push Kazuichi away and  _ that’d  _ be the despair. Maybe, just maybe, he could justify this to himself.

He felt a pair of arms tightening around him, felt himself being pulled closer, and suddenly it was his turn to tense up. He expected it to be over any second; it could be some kind of cruel move to make the moment he was pushed onto the floor hit even harder.

But the moment didn’t end. Tanaka’s arms stayed firmly wrapped around him and when Kazuichi looked up at his boyfriend (for once it didn’t feel as alien to think about him like that), he saw that he too had started crying. Kazuichi always cried. Tanaka never did. This was quite the moment, huh? To be fair, Kazuichi  _ was  _ also crying so it wasn’t that out of the ordinary, but still!

Repositioning himself a bit, he placed a hand on each side of Tanaka’s face and for the first time in a long time, he looked into the eyes of his lover. This was their first time really connecting in a year, maybe more, and in a few hours it’d be over. They’d be over. The chance of both of them surviving the killing game they’d signed up for was slim and Kazuichi found himself hoping they’d both die in there. But hope felt awful.

And so did love.

He loved the man in front of him. After everything they’d gone through and everything they’d done to each other, he still loved him. He hadn’t thought about it like that for a long time and he almost wished he’d stayed on his side of the room. Without hope and love, despair was nothing. He preferred feeling hollow, but despair was supposed to feel good so he stayed.

“Kazuichi.”

The mechanic’s jaw dropped slightly. Tanaka… said his name? No. If Tanaka could say his name, he could– “Gundham.”

It was clumsy and far from perfect, and Ta– Gundham’s lips were rougher than he remembered, but they kissed. It was all they could do. Soon, they’d meet for the first time and Kazuichi would hate him and Gundham would hate him back, and then they’d die before getting to know how much they meant to each other. These were their final moments and they had to make them count.


End file.
